No Other Letter
by Momoiro Usagi
Summary: An unlikely romance blossoms from a chance meeting in the library. HavocxSchieska


The first time she caught him watching her, she pretended not to notice. With a sidelong stare and a gentle grin, she returned to her book, pretending to be mesmerized by words she already knew by heart. It was escapism that helped her hide her own uncertainty; somehow, reading about romance seemed so much easier than actually understanding it. Behind weathered paper, she was able to mask her fear, avoiding his eyes every time she turned a page.

Schieska had never been in love, finding romance in fairy tales rather than the simple exchanges of her own life. Desire became a thing of fantasy: a world lined with flowers and sweet words whispered under the summer stars. She had expectations, but no intent of ever carrying them out.

Still, it was the little gestures that nagged at her daydreams. It was his nervous chuckle that made her put down the book and finally bridge the gap between them.

"Hello there!" Havoc exclaimed, a bit too hurriedly. Fumbling with the stack of papers in his hand, he shrugged, confusion playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm, um, looking for a few things!" He coughed, his voice dropping to a deep, manly rumble. Schieska suppressed the urge to giggle. "Perhaps you can be of some assistance!"

"Of course!" It was her job, after all, but something about the way he said it made her want to help, rather than feeling an obligation, as she did with so many of her other visitors. His sloppy, endearing grin was like that of a nervous puppy, and the response she received when producing the books on his crumpled-up list was all the reward she could ever ask for. "It's no trouble, really!"

"I, uh, thanks."

Watching as he tried his best to collect several volumes of _Alchemy and Political Law_ between shaky arms, she was less than surprised when the heaviest of the stack crashed to the floor. "Here, let me help you with that!" Her squeak was frantic, her hands flying down as he himself bent to join her. Their heads bumped. A fiery blush blossomed on Schieska's cheeks. "I, I, I'm so sorry!"

It was an old cliché: meeting someone in the library after work, bumping in to each other as both reached to pick up the same book. Schieska had imagined a similar scenario many times, using the shadows of men browsing through the manuscript-lined rows of her workplace to fuel her fantasies. Still, she had never guessed it might actually happen. The very thought sent shivers racing down her spine.

"H, h, here!" She thrust the book in his general direction, her eyes dropping to the floor. "I have to get back to work, I'm sorry. Good luck with your research!"

He chucked a hearty chuckle, extracting an unlit cigarette from his pocket and placing it between smiling lips. "Oh no! These aren't for me." He straightened up, squaring off his shoulders. But the tremble in his hands gave away his apprehension. "Colonel's orders, you know."

"Ah! Of course! I'm sorry, I should've known! He's doing this for Ed, right? I think that's really sweet of him!" She gushed, sliding clammy palms down the length of her skirt.

He paused, smiled, and looked away, clearly taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Yeah, I guess it is. But you know the Colonel." Finally trying to meet her gaze, he winked, tightening his hold on leather-bound volumes of alchemy and rhetoric. "Well, I'm afraid I better get going!" His voice took on a hint of forced masculinity, falling slightly as he backed away towards the door. "But if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me!"

"Ah, well, OK. Good luck."

Watching his shadow slip away over the library's threshold, she never would have expected to actually take him up on that offer. But there was something about his easy, laid-back smile that kept calling to her, giving her a reason to put her nervousness aside and knock shyly at his door. At first, it was just for afternoon break. She would skitter up to his room with her paper lunch sack and a favorite book almost every day, sometimes even staying a little longer than the prescribed twenty minutes. But soon the lunch breaks lengthened, stretching out far beyond the time she was permitted to disappear from work.

One day, they decided it would be best if they moved these _lunch dates_, as Havoc so proudly called them, to _dinner dates_. Schieska certainly wasn't going to protest. Evening was the hour of romance, after all, and recently she had started to develop quite a fixation with romance.

"Schieska?" He sauntered into the library, peeking behind each pile with curious uncertainty. His hands balled up at his sides. "Hey, Schieska?"

"I'm here!" A rucksack full of books banged against her sides as she ran, the weight of it nearly throwing her off balance as she emerged from the bathroom, dashing in his general direction. "Sorry, I, I was," lips slick with gloss parted in a hopeful smile. A crimson flush peeked out from under a layer of clumsily-applied make-up. "I was just getting ready!"

"I didn't mind the wait." He offered her his arm, his eyes dropping to admire the way the her plaid skirt clung to her hips and thighs. She caught him staring, but this time all she could do was sigh. "And besides, I'm pretty sure the place won't be crowded." Powder-blue eyes darted to meet her smile. "You like sandwiches, right?"

"Of course!" Giving him a gentle nudge, she followed him out the door and down a flight of stairs, grateful as they stepped out under the waning autumn sun. She spent so many hours every day trapped between the pages of her books that she sometimes forgot the simple beauty of a starry sky or the soothing feel of the wind whispering against rosy cheeks. Even though the world around her was far removed from the flowery descriptions of her favorite poets, somehow the simplicity made it all the more appealing.

Once she had tried reading the lieutenant one of her favorite poems. He had looked so bored; the goofy grin on his face had done nothing to mask his obvious confusion. She wondered, glanced up at him, watching the golden light playing on his eyes, if he saw the world the same way she did. Was he noticing the sweet smell of pumpkins and drying leaves, or the way the sky swooped over head in a rainbow of ethereal color?

Was he noticing the way her breath hitched every time he reached for her hand?

"This is the place." He paused before a tiny café, throwing open his arms with a laugh. "The boys and I usually stop by the bar across the street after work, so I've always been curious…"

"It looks lovely!" _He_ looks lovely, she noted, caught up in the happy glow that swelled around him as he sauntered up to the counter, placing her order with a certain chivalry often forgotten by other men his age. _I really am lucky_, nodding, she accepted her plate and joined him at a nearby table, eager for yet another chance to listen to his humorous anecdotes about the office and the other men in his troop. With Havoc, there was never a dull moment.

They ate slowly, blissfully, enjoying each other's company until the sun faded completely from the sky outside their window. Stepping out into the night together, Havoc made no hesitation in offering to buy her dessert, which she accepted with abashed joy, stuttering out a slew of apologies about imposing on him and his money.

Nibbling at her ice cream, she jumped slightly when she felt his arm slither around her waist. His wool sleeves and study forearms were like a lasso surrounding her entire being: he pulled her closer into his world, and she found neither the will nor the desire to resist.

"You look really nice tonight, you know." Chuckling another hearty chuckle, he shrugged, stopping to gather her up in his embrace. "I haven't done this for a while, so…"

_So?_ She nearly broke down into gales of laughter, but was immediately silenced when a feeling of terror washed over her own chest. She'd never done this at all, she reminded herself, suddenly feeling small in his arms. Her chocolate chip ice cream started to melt behind his back, dribbling down her sweaty wrists in streams of white and brown. She silently prayed it wouldn't splash up onto his uniform. The very thought made her tongue fall limp in her mouth.

"L, l, like this?" She stretched up onto her toes, tilting her head slightly, giggling when they bumped noses instead.

He laughed in response; the sound vibrated on Schieska's pursed lips, easing her back into blissful repose. "Well, not exactly."

As he leaned forward, her senses suddenly hitched, acquiring a sparkling new awareness of the world around her. The sky overhead, though starless, still seemed to sparkle in his powder-blue gaze. The scent of tobacco on his breath, while much different than the smell of roses and champagne she had always equated with moments of romance, held its own comforting appeal, like an old sweater or a big leather chair. It spoke of him. It spoke of laid-back conversations and nervous glances shot in her direction. It was simple, but not any less exciting.

Their mouths came together: shyly at first, but then increasingly more adventurous. She giggled, but the sound was soon muffled as he moved in closer, tightening his hold on her waist. The half-finished ice cream in her hands was nearly forgotten, and in a moment's panic she was certain she had dropped it on his shoe. But it was still there, cold and sticky against sweaty skin, helping her remember how to breathe.

When she finally stepped away, he helped her dry off her hand with his handkerchief, lingering a little longer than necessary on each trembling finger. He walked her to her door, pausing to plant another kiss on her cheek before retreating back towards his own empty apartment.

She watched him pad lightly down the steps, smiling to herself as she remembered the scent of his breath against her face and the steady hold of his hands splayed out across her back. "Are you free Saturday night?" The words escaped her lips before she had the chance to consider them, but, watching as his face broke out into an exuberant grin, she certainly couldn't regret saying them. "Maybe I'll try cooking something next time, you know. So it will be fair."

"That sounds great!" He nearly tripped on his own shoe, turning back to throw her a wave. "I'll see you tomorrow, Schieska! Have a nice evening!"

"You too." Her voice fell to a whisper, hanging on her lips as she watched him saunter away down the street. "You too, Havoc."

A romance written in clumsy farewells and tobacco-scented kisses certainly wasn't the image of love she had conjured up as a little girl pouring over novel after novel about princes and shining nights. And yet somehow, she knew, she wouldn't trade Havoc for any fairy tale in the world.

Opening her door, she slung her rucksack of books down onto a chair, not really caring as her favorite love poems spilled out across the floor. Instead she pulled out a piece of paper and pen, dropping down into her chair, her legs swinging beneath her as she began to write:

_Dear Winry,_

_It turns out your guesses about Mr. Havoc were right all along. He really _is_ a great kisser._

Satisfied, she slipped it into an envelope, tossing it in her purse before retiring for the night. Tomorrow she would see Havoc again, but, until then, she had her dreams to keep her company.


End file.
